


The Grape

by mmmdraco



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some parts of the Zero System that just don't go away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the characters, I mean no harm, I have no money... Stuff like that. Yeah.

Quatre smiled. The house was clean again, allowing him his comfort. He hated dirt with a passion, and hated seeing larger items strewn about even more so. Therefore, when he walked into the living room and saw a single, solitary red grape sitting on the coffee table, his eyes flew open in rage. "Who left a grape sitting here?"

He waited a moment, but no one answered.

Stalking over to the offending grape, Quatre grabbed it by the small piece of stem protruding from the shallows of the grape. He carried it in front of him to the kitchen. Heero, Duo, Trowa, and Wufei were playing poker around the table in the breakfast nook, and Quatre made sure to hold the grape in an obvious grip so that they would notice it. 

The trash bin's lid was lifted, and Quatre announced, the grape held high, "I will not tolerate grapes left on my tables."

With a flourish, and with everyone watching, Quatre tossed the grape toward the wide mouth of the bin. It hit the rim and bounced off, landing on the floor. Laughing a bit psychotically, Quatre grabbed the grape off of the floor and walked over to the sink. Still giggling maniacally to himself, Quatre shoved the grape down the drain to the garbage disposal, and turned it on, his laugh growing louder with the grind of the grape. 

A moment later, Quatre shut off the garbage disposal and grabbed a paper towel, using it to wipe up the remains of the grape from the sink, and a bit of the counter. With a peaceful smile, Quatre walked toward the trash bin again, depositing the used paper towel with ease and shutting the lid. 

He started to walk out of the room when he noticed that everyone was staring at him. Blushing slightly, he pointed toward the sink. "I gave it a chance, but it didn't take it." Noticing that no one's expression changed, he pouted softly and said regally before leaving the room, "It was an insolent grape. It deserved to die."


	2. The Dishwasher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the characters, I mean no harm, I have no money... Stuff like that. Yeah.

Quatre wandered about the kitchen with a sponge in hand, meticulously scrubbing at the coffee stains left on the counter by the refrigerator from dropped and forgotten spoons. Bread crumbs that graced the counter near the toaster were quickly eliminated. All remains of food, herbs, and Heero and Duo's attempt at spicing up their sex life were quickly and efficiently put to death with antibacterial soap and Quatre's firm hand. When the counter top shined with loveliness, Quatre smiled and rinsed the sponge, placing it in the cute frog sponge holder by the sink.

He was about to wander out of the kitchen again when he glanced over into the breakfast nook and saw an errant bowl lying on the table. "What did I tell you guys about leavings things on tables? Grr!" 

No one answered. Quatre wrinkled his nose as he remembered they'd all gone shopping after dinner for fresh produce at a market in town. It had been a while since any of them had been able to indulge in good fruits and vegetables, so while they had the chance, they were eating as many as possible. Quatre had given Trowa a list of what to get for him, knowing the tall pilot would search out the best for him. The best would get him his reward of a sweet kiss, and Quatre knew Trowa couldn't pass that by. 

Sighing, Quatre gathered the bowl, and a fork that had fallen to the ground during dinner, and walked over to the dishwasher. He opened the door to it, and pulled out the bottom rack, gasping loudly as he saw the horrors it contained. The plates were still covered in bits of food. The flatware was not organized by type and size. The plates were out of order. And, someone had stuck a pan liberally laced with grease on top of the rotating spray thingie in the middle!

Quatre felt his uchuu no kokoro begin to warp... suddenly, he was in ZSC mode... Zero System Clean! He removed every single item from the bottom rack of the dishwasher and placed it in the sink. Grabbing his sponge again, he loaded it up with soap and hot water, and began scrubbing the plates down. Bits of potato, green beans, carrots, and dollops of sauces of all kinds flowed down the drain into the garbage disposal. When no traces of food remained, the plates were loaded into the dishwasher. The smallest plates were set off to the side, but the rest of the plates were arranged from smallest to largest on one side of the bottom rack. 

Next, the bowls were cleaned and arranged in their proper order. Then, the flatware and cooking utensils. All of the forks went together. The steak knives went together; the butter knives went together. Serving spoons and teaspoons and tablespoons were all designated their own compartment. Finally, the "odd" utensils were loaded into their proper slot. Quatre smiled and glanced at the pan that had been left over. It had been scrubbed clean, but could still use a trip through the gloriously hot dish bath that the dishwasher would provide.

Taking a deep breath, Quatre pushed the bottom rack back into place, then pulled out the top rack. His eyes opened wide, and one eye began to twitch. Quickly, he turned his back on the scene. His fists were clenched, and his eye wouldn't quit twitching! But, Quatre smiled. Then was a lump of dough rising in the corner. When he was done cleaning, the dough would need punching. Rubbing his hands together, all but dancing at the feel of the lingering cleanness thereof, Quatre turned around again, his eyes gleaming. The cups were touching, but not for long!

He worked quickly, rinsing all traces of coffee, hot chocolate, tea, boullion, and warm milk from the mugs, and the juice, soda, and cold milk remainders from the glasses. They were all replaced with the utmost efficiency. All of the handles of the mugs pointed in the same direction. The glasses were organized by pattern. And, still, a space remained. Happily, Quatre loaded in the pot, as well as its lid, and the smallest size of the plates. 

The rack was pushed in, detergent was loaded into the proper slot, and the door was closed. Quatre happily began the dishwasher's run, and cleaned the counter top to a gleam once more. With everything clean in the kitchen, Quatre closed his eyes and walked through the house into the living room. He knew that the table in the breakfast nook probably still had toast crumbs on it from the morning meal, and the dining room table probably had honey mustard salad dressing on it, but if he pretended to be oblivious, he might forget, and then he could be free to enjoy the kiwi that Trowa brought back for him.

As Quatre entered the living room and took his place on the love seat, he realized that he hadn't actually punched out the dough. "Hmm... Guess that enough cleaning can pacify anyone."

Off in the Sank Kingdom, Relena was busily scrubbing a half inch of burnt clam chowder out of a pan. "I think that tomorrow I shall have a talk with the leader of OZ. We must come to peace! But, why, oh, why won't this come to pieces!?" Sighing, Relena reached for the steel wool and continued scrubbing, thoughts of peace filling her mind.


End file.
